Filthy Hands
by pointblankdarcy
Summary: BellaLockhart fic. Absolutely ridiculous. Set in St. Mungo's.


_**Filthy Hands**_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any elements of the Harry Potter universe. I do own the plot.

**Notes: **Bellatrix/Lockhart. I did this out of pure fun. It's under humour because it's simply outrageously ridiculous.

* * *

"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF ME!"

Harry winced as the shrieks of Bellatrix Lestrange grew louder. Ron covered his ears.

Hermione looked as if she was about to march over and take away points from Bellatrix. Harry could imagine her doing that…

"_How dare you scream and yell around while people are trying to study? Which part of 'I need peace and quiet for my exams, if you even breathe I'll hex you' do you not understand? Fifty points from Slytherin!"_

"Harry? Earth to Harry!" A hand was waving in front of his face. He looked up. Hermione, the real one, was looking quite concerned.

"You alright? You look as if you've been seeing… things… again."

"No… no… nothing like that… Just spacing out again," Harry hastily replied.

"WILL YOU LET GO, YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD! YOU HAVE NO RIGHTS TO TOUCH ME! LET ME DOWN!"

Bellatrix's shrieks deafened all that had their ears open.

"I don't think the prisoners in Azkaban will welcome her," grimaced Ron, who was rubbing his ears. "Are my ears glowing?"

"No, but mine are hurting like anything." Harry was sure his was about to drop off.

Hermione seemed unfazed, but Harry could see that she hid a disgusted look behind a calm demeanour. She was more focused on her book than Bellatrix's screams, which had not abated as she was dragged to a ward.

"I REFUSE TO DEGRADE MYSELF TO BE _EXAMINED_ AT BY YOU! HORRIBLE, FILTHY MUDBLOODS ARE WHAT YOU ARE! UNHAND ME!"

The Healers surrounding Bellatrix were having a hard time alternating between dragging the unwilling Death Eater into the ward and ducking the witch's kicks and scratches.

"Children, you can see Professor Lockhart now," a plump Mediwitch told the trio.

"Who's she calling children?" Ron said indignantly. He was much taller than the Mediwitch, and resented being treated like a five-year-old; he had had enough mothering at home.

"Never mind, Ron! Professor Lockhart!" Hermione seemed to have lost all of her breath as she walked towards the handsome wizard at the far end of the ward.

Harry glanced at Ron, and was alarmed to see his face turn red. He slung an arm over Ron's shoulder, ready to intervene in case he did something foolish. Harry soon realised the futility of this, as he was much shorter than Ron.

"One day, I'll hex his brains off… When there's no one watching… I'm allowed to use magic, I am, aren't I? I'll sneak in and bang, his ears will be gone and then his arms and then…" Ron trailed off as they walked closer to the blonde wizard.

"Hello Professor," Harry said brightly, or as bright as he could feel.

"I don't know you… Should I?" the clueless wizard asked, bewildered.

"Well, yes, but…"

"Oh. I'm _so_ depressed…" the once-famous author sighed. Hermione glared at Harry, and pulled Lockhart into a hug. Harry grabbed Ron as the redheaded Weasley made to lunge at Lockhart.

"Let go of me, Harry! I'll get him!" Ron snarls were drowned out by a loud "BANG!" and "CRASH!" out in the corridor.

Harry sprinted to door, eager to have a look. Had Bellatrix escaped?

In contrary, Bellatrix was lying dazed on the corridor, surrounded by a horrified group of Healers.

Harry stared at the prone body of the Death Eater who had murdered his godfather in cold blood. _Is she dead?_

"She's breathing… Carry her in, John!"

"What's happening, mate?" Ron appeared next to Harry, his face considerably less red.

"She's been Stunned or something… And they're bringing her here!" Harry hissed under his breath, hatred filling him. He wished for nothing more than to kill her, her that killed Sirius…

"Move please, children!" the very same plump witch ordered them out of the way, ignoring the scathing glare by Ron, who towered over her menacingly.

Harry yanked Ron back to Lockhart's bedside. Lockhart was sitting up, looking at the scene with mild interest.

"What's wrong with her?" Lockhart asked the plump witch.

"Shhh, dear. She's been hit by a random spell. The others were trying to calm her, you know, but she kept on struggling and kicked Healer John's wand out of his hand. The spell hit her straight in the chest." The witch shook her head gravely.

"What spell was it?" Hermione asked.

"That's what they're trying to find out now, dear," the witch answered, pointing at the curtains that covered Bellatrix and the Healers from their view.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHERE AM I? WHO AM I? DON'T TOUCH ME WITH YOUR FILTHY HANDS!" screeched a voice behind the curtains. The trio and the witch winced at the blast, but Lockhart simply craned his neck to have a look.

Bellatrix might have had her memory obliterated, but her voice was still as loud and imperious as ever. Soon, however, her screams subsided and the group of Healers emerged from the curtains.

"John, I don't think the Ministry will suspend you or anything. Maybe it's a good thing her memory has vanished," an elderly Healer patted a scrawny young man on the back. "The Calming Potion would have helped subdue her; you did the right thing in there."

Harry looked at his friends and was about to open his mouth when the plump Mediwitch shooed them out of the ward.

* * *

"What does she think she is? A mother hen?" Ron fumed. He had borne the brunt of the chivvying, to his disgust. The Mediwitch did not like him much.

"Honestly Ron, stop being so childish!" Hermione chided.

"Me? I don't see myself fawning over a blonde while letting my _girlfriend_ just stand there!"

Harry rolled his eyes. He'd seen this coming.

"It's none of your business, _Ronald_, how I treat an ex-Professor!"

"Oh, it isn't?"

"Yes, it isn't!"

Harry, tired of the bickering, took a quiet peek into the ward. What he saw astounded him so much that his mouth fell open and he actually rubbed his eyes and polished his spectacles before looking again.

Lockhart had gone to Bellatrix's bedside and he was stroking her hair! Not only that, Bellatrix was smiling! Harry had decided to slip his head back out when…

"… not selfish! Harry, you alright?" Ron had noticed Harry's pale face as he stumbled into a chair.

"Harry, you don't look so good. Want me to call that Healer?" Hermione asked, all her thoughts of the quarrel forgotten.

"No, please Hermione, no!" Ron moaned.

Just then, Harry let out a hysterical laugh.

"On second thought, any Healer will do," began Ron.

"I don't… I don't need a Healer… It's just that… no more quarrelling… Lockhart… Bellatrix… HAHAHAHA!" As Harry dissolved into peals of laughter, Ron walked to the door of the ward and looked in.

Hermione looked in amazement and shock as her boyfriend removed his head from the interior of the room and guffawed loudly, joining Harry in HahaLand.

Being an absolutely practical witch, she called for a Healer. Healer John came running and looked in horror as the two teens rolled on the ground.

Hermione told him what Harry and Ron had done. Both of them decided to look into the ward, to see what had made the two boys laugh uncontrollably.

Hermione gasped.

_Lockhart and Bellatrix were snogging in the hospital bed!_

Hermione felt the edges of her lips curl and she started to giggle uncontrollably. Healer John looked at her in dismay. He himself had an urge to puke.

"What's going on, children?" the plump Mediwitch appeared on the scene, shocked at the three teens' behaviour. "Healer John, what's going on?"

"I… They… She…" Healer John covered his mouth, closed his eyes and wished for the gorge to settle. It was working when the plump Mediwitch started shaking him hard. He clamped his mouth closed. No such luck.

"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF ME!"

Seeing the plump witch covered up with vomit was the perfect icing on the cake for Ron, who roared with laughter.

* * *

Yes, some parts are really lame. No, I'm not off my rocker. If you've reached here means that you really 1) Liked it and want to tell me or 2) hated it and want to give me some good old criticism. I'll take any of it!

_nothingville, a.k.a. Darcy._


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